Sunday, July 22, 2012

The point of the Earth One line of OGN’s is to capture the proverbial
“new reader” that never seems to appear. My guess as to why, is that
comics are by and large expensive and shitty. Fifty Shades of Grey is $10 and, although poorly written, will at least make your mother and sister cum; Batman: Earth One is $24 and will just make you feel empty inside. Batman has a strict no cum policy in place. AND HE IS THE LAW!

The only moment of emotion felt in Earth One is when Batman
sweeps Alfred’s leg like Johnny Lawrence in Karate Kid and showed that
cripple son of a bitch who’s the boss. Because in that moment Alfred
(and you, my dear reader) know Bats is really ready for the mean streets
of Gotham, because only Batman is so cold that he’d knock the
prosthetic limb off of the only man who was ever there for him. He took
lassie out behind the shed and put a .22 square between his eyes and
became a man in that single moment, because that’s how you become a man,
by killing the things you love. And Geoff Johns kills everything he
loves. Because he is a man. And so is Batman.

—————–Batman #11——————–

The joke was there was no joke.

——————Bulletproof Coffin: Disinterred #6————–

No review, just this.

———————-Thickness #3 ———————-

You ever see anal beads shoved up a man’s urethra? If not email me, I got pics for you.

———————- Walking Dead #100——————-

This is going to be the highest selling comic of the year, maybe the
decade, and it seems set out to prove to everyone that Marvel and DC do
not have a monopoly on shitty comics.

It takes a cynical man to write
the same comic he did 55 issues ago and think no one will pick up on it,
and I guess in between screwing his co-creators out of royalties so he
can buy more KFC grease to rub on himself, Kirkman got his cynicism
down. Joey (Alusiolioe) posits that Kirkman has a random plot generator, i posit that he has a 3 sided dice with maim, kill, copy plot of -50 issues ago that he rolls each arc to determine the fate of his characters; and copy takes up 47 of the 52 sides of the die.

———————–Spider-Men #3————————-

The following is an excerpt from the pitch meeting for Spider-Men:

Marvel: “Come on baby, i thought we had something special here, it’ll be quick, you won’t feel a thing.”

Bendis: “I’m not sure… i don’t feel comfortable about it…”

Marvel: “Baby, don’t you love me?”

Bendis: “Yeah, but…”

Marvel: “Then you’ll let me…”

Bendis: “I don’t know…”

Marvel: “Baby…”

Bendis: “I just don’t know… will it hurt?”

Marvel: “Will it hurt?”

Bendis: “Yeah, will it?”

Marvel:"I would never do anything to hurt you. Never.”

Bendis:"Are you sure?"

Marvel:"Yeah"

Bendis: “Ok. I guess”

Marvel: "Are you sure?"

Bendis: "Yeah, I'm sure"

Marvel: “I love you”

Bendis: “I love you to”*insertion*

—AN ASIDE: SASSY SAYs SUBSCRIBING Soooo ZoO SOUNDS SILLY______

The primary obstacle in comics, for the artist, is to convey motion.
Unable to show every action, like animation, artists need to pick out
the major beats and convince the reader the character got from one point
to another. All in the span of a single gutter. It’s a difficult task,
and the over-rendered nature of mainstream comics has made it all the
more so. Readers expect splash pages and group shots, but inherent in
this is a reduction in the spontaneity of the artists line work: when
every line is pre-planned and pre-arranged; before ever being put to
paper the image just sits there like a stiff corpse. There’s a reason
why Kirby’s panels jump off the page, and it’s not because he’s laboring
over each panel.
One of those silly philosophical questions you’re asked as a child is
“if a tree falls in the woods, does it make any noise?”. The actual
answer is no, since sound requires a human (or “living” entity) to
register the motion taking place. It is because of this fact that sound
in comics is impossible, but for it to even be a possibility it requires
the artist to provide the semblance of motion on the page. Which far to
many fail to do.

It is for this fact that the use of sound effects is so widespread in
comics, they are used as a way to hedge one’s bets against the
incompetence of so many artists and show explicitly whats occurring on
panel. Where the purple prose of Alan Moore’s Swamp Thing once secured
this fact, writers and editors are now stripped down to this single
tool. Which they use as subtlety as Snoop Dog’s drug advocacy. This in
turn ruins the artwork of competent artists by adding foreign objects
into the composition and making each element unbalanced.

There’s no real point to this , besides that you shouldn’t ruin
Jerome Opena’s art with sound effects to reinforce the point that he did
in fact illustrate someone getting stabbed, but maybe it’s OK on a
Billy Tan page.

———————-MORE OF AN ASIDE: Pop that Pussy Patrol =====================

I went to the beach this week; this is what I learn’t:

Mandy is supposedly a bitch.

Some girl within earshot had sand in her crotch.

The proper ratio of rum to cola, in a beach setting, is one liter to one pint.

Sand crotch girl doesn’t remember where she got all her bruises from… she drinks a lot.

All I learn’t about beach life from 1950′s movies was a lie. There
was in fact, no beach battles, nor was there a clam shack rock band playing music
for all the beach babes to bop the night away at.

Additionally Sean Collins has taken up Tom Spurgeon’s call to talk
about Love and Rockets during Comic Con pretty seriously. You can read
some of his reviews and essays here
. I do have to say that Jaime's Love and Rockets: New Stories #4 story was easily the
greatest ending to a comic ever published. I read both Locas omnibuses
over two amazing months last year and when you reach the final pages of
Love Bunglers its truly a transcendent experience. Jaime Hernandez is
one of the mediums greatest artists and produced one of the decade’s
defining stories, his absence from both the Harveys and Eisner’s is a
tragedy.

Chad Nevetts posts on Avengers vs X-men are so much more than that shitty comic ever deserved.

Tucker Stones 10 most anticipated comics of the year are pretty spot
on. Although he did neglect those EC archives Fantagraphics are doing
and the new Johnny Negron book from Picture Box Negron. But you know, opinions are opinions.

The Chemical Box put up a new podcast, I attempted to record an
episode with them earlier this year, but it was 7 hours long and
unusable. This one is much better. (http://thechemicalbox.blogspot.com/)

MOCCA died and no one should give a fuck.

———– Digression #8———–

No Black Kiss review, just more Chaykin. See Black Kiss is old and therefore irrelevant. Cheer up
though, I’ve got seven inches of natural blonde on retainer for tonight.

= ==== Random Haunts, Random Digs, Random So Called Lives+++++++++++

The Scatology of Freud. – #PossibleBandNames
The Scatology of Freud – #MyNewComic
The Scatology of Freud – #MyNewS&MClub
The Scatology of Freud – #MyGraduateThesis
The Scatology of Freud – #NotFunnyAnymore
The Scatology of Freud – #GrandmasFavoriteBook
——–End————-

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Escalator:Every time I read a Brandon Graham comic all I want to do is get on the subway, put Blueprint (KRS-One not Jay-Z) on repeat and read a stack of quarter bin comics. This collection is no different.

Escalator
collects Brandon Graham's early short stories, along with some nice
commentary on each stories genesis. What I always liked about these
types of collections is seeing how a creator got from point A to point B
(or C, D, E, F, G...). Looking at Adrian Tomine's 32 Stories collection and seeing him change so dramatically over just a few issues of Optic Nerve
is amazing, especially knowing where he ultimately ended up. Grahams progression isn't as dramatic as Tomine's though, Grahams style is firmly
cemented in these early stories, just less refined than it is today. His panels become
busy at points, overly angular (look at his self-depiction in I Owe You compared to now) and his inking is looser, but his basic style is there.

Sugarless Candy is
the first story that feels like a Graham comic, its just a guy talking
to his girlfriend and looking over the cityscape before she gets on a
plane for home. Graham's ability to forge an immediate connect between his
characters and the reader is astonishing, even in his creative infancy within three panels he makes you identify with each
character in the story in a way i still don't connect with any
"mainstream" creation; curled feet peeking out of a blanket, sock
puppets, old sugar free candy, Indian headdress from old memories box. These little things craft a connection that you buy wholeheartedly
in mere panels, where others take tomes.

There's also some nice forays into auto-bio with True Crime and I Owe You, along with a funny two pager about starring at girls asses when they walk by.

The final story collected is an early installment
of Multiple Warheads
which is the most accomplished (and "newest") entry in the collection. His art and writing are fully formed in this short, his hyper-detailed
and yet open panels , his proclivity for puns, small side-character moments ("The
ladies love a field hat") and his need to draw pretty girls with there asses sticking out are all on display here. I'm genuinely excited to see him continue this strip with Image later this year.

From the first page of Escalator to
the last, you see Graham grow as an artist and storyteller, infusing
his work with elements of Science Fiction, Autobiography, absurdism
along with playing around with his story structure and subverting reader
expectations. When you put down Escalator its easy to see how he went from this, to King City.

Wild Children:

Grant
Morrison's Bat-Epic opened with Batman shooting the Joker in the face, a
rejection of the chaos that the Joker represented, along with the chaos
of his previous comics. Morrison's initial Batman run is a story of structure
and stability, wheels within wheels. Wild Children kicks off by shooting Jim Gordan in the fucking face. A direct act of rejection towards Morrison's latter day work as a corporate cog. Wild Children is
a shift to the Morison of the early nineties, retro-fitted for
the current zestiest. A post-Morrison, per-Morrison, comic for the
Facebook Generation.

Unlike The Invisibles though, which existed in a world of Transgender Discotecha’s, Philip K Dick novels and ecstasy, Wild Children
exists in the internet era. Mass communication ("For fucks sake.
Televised-Youtubed-Casualties") widespread and accepted forms of fetishism ("Want
me to Piss on you some more") internet criticism (" 'Sequence is Magic'
– Matt Seneca") and self referential entertainment ("The Space-Time
Worms in Donnie Darko, the All Now from The Invisibles, the Five Dimensional beings in Neonomicon") rule the day, and are therefore key components to Wild Children, and pop culture at large. When Morrison wrote Kill Your Boyfriend and St. Swithin's Day he was talking about youthful rebellion in the age of the post-60's protest movements, Wild Children approaches them in the post-internet digital revolution, the Anonymous movement, hacktivism, Occupy, Wikileaks.Its
a comic about comics, based on comics about comics, that have been deconstructed for a decade over internet message boards until they
became something completely different. I can see readers rolling their
eyes at every page, in a couple months i may too, but for
right now i am fascinated by the balls behind this thing. It's both new
and old, and dying to be ripped apart on 4chan.

It's a mission statement of whats next, sent from the past to fuck up the present.

Captain Marvel

There's
nothing particularly good or bad about this comic, the script has some bounce
to it in the beginning, but that dies a slow cancerous death and
descends into exposition and melodrama after page five. The art seems
out of place for the most part, its in an inky Rafael Albuquerque style that doesn't work with the script very well. That's not to say it's not good, it's just out of place.

The
whole time reading this i was thinking how nice this comic would be if
Jamie McKelvie had drawn it and they just cut out the second half and
just talked about britpop while at a club full of cute girls. That would
have been nice.

What i am getting at is Jamie McKelvie needs to draw more comics about cute girls dancing in clubs.

God i miss Phonogram, when's that coming back? Soon right?

Also mullet.

Fantastic Four 608

This was terrible, but i do want a comic about WW2 Black Panther fighting Japaneses soldiers in a white suit drawn by David Aja now.

Blacksad: A Silent HellThe only real reason to pick up Blacksad
is for the art, and even more specifically for the coloring. Juanjo
Guarnido linework is solid with an eye for detail, but his colors are
vibrant and lush. That may be why this collection devotes over thirty
pages of extra's to his coloring process. His understanding of lighting
is probably his most astonishing skill, being able to differentiate
between a neon drenched street and a room lit only by candle light, or the
shading produced by a tree's canopy, it's awe inspiring.Juan
Diaz Canales scripts are fine, they don't set the world on fire and
tend to delve into genre tropes far too often. There are some nice
period references and his research shows in the text, but it never
really coalesces into something more. Noir and crime stories are always
difficult to pull off from a writing point of view, The Third Man isn't remembered for its script but for its atmosphere, but, ultimately, theres just something missing in Canales's script.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Alec Berry & Shawn Starr / couldn’t come up with a title

Alec Berry: Benjamin Marra is the dude who can’t be
told ‘no’ at the moment. The industry, or the side aware of him, has
latched onto his work, and no matter what genre, content or heinous
thing he draws, the people can’t get enough.

I would place myself in that camp of the faithful. Like most of the
industry, I too was unaware of Marra’s comics up until this year, but
now after having spent time with them, I find his attitude and passion
for creating engrossing, and I feel his comics represent a long
forgotten aspect of the medium. Representing, of course, for the
betterment of comics.

Marra’s books, while lewd, grotesque and absurd, are keeping this
funny book thing on the ground, balancing out the high reaching works of
Craig Thompson, or whatever other clone there may be, celebrating some
of the roots associated with comics while simply presenting an artist
who doesn’t really give a fuck what you think. Marra’s making the shit
he wants to see, and from this I feel it’s appropriate we discuss
Marra’s work after our previous discussion
which pertained to Rob Liefeld. Because Marra, like Liefeld, celebrates
the trash entertainment value found in comics, but does so with an
energy and charm that cannot be overridden. Yet, as an added bonus,
Marra’s comics juxtapose the trash subject matter by presenting
astounding craft and draftsmanship, making his books into these
bombastic scraps slammed together with staples.

For anyone who spends any time on the comic industry’s side of the
internet, this may not be anything new to chat about as Benjamin Marra
has become a very well covered, and discussed, cartoonist. You can read
just about any interview with the guy and discover what I just wrote,
straight from the man himself. But, this aside, he does have a new book
out titled Lincoln Washington: Free Man, and I think we would be remiss not to discuss this book because, of all the Marra comics I’ve read, I feel Lincoln Washington
is his absolute best. It really brings all the ideas of his work home
and houses them under a perfectly illustrated composition.

From the subject matter to the characterization to the humor, this
comic performs in every way. And we can’t forget the six panel grids.
But, fuck, let me stop. You’re the bigger fan than I. What did you find
appealing about Lincoln Washington?

Shawn Starr: I think what makes Marra important is
that he makes genuinely fun comics. That seems like an odd statement,
but when you examine the landscape of comics in the wake of the 80’s /
90’s intellectual movement (in both art comics via RAW and
Art Spiegelman and in the “mainstream” by the likes of Alan Moore and
Frank Miller) everything became serious. Too serious. Every comic, from
superheroes whose only power was to shoot arrows and look like Robin
Hood, to the ‘zine some guy xeroxed on his lunch break about middle-aged
samurai kangaroos, was considered the pinnacle of art.

Everything became graphic-novel-this and graphic-novel-that, and
comics were thrust into the hands of the mainstream under the guise of
“Art”; even the Batman movie was accompanied by a Grant Morrison / Dave
McKean “graphic novel” that would grab the attention of none of the
moviegoers. Seriously, that book is fucking impenetrable.

Intellectualism is what everybody decided made comics acceptable, I
guess. That’s why all those RAW guys live on yachts and pour champagne
on bitches all day. Except Spiegelman; he just puts his cigarettes out on their inner-thighs and watches them dance real slow. Real slow.
And now no one looks at the kid reading the new issue of Wolverine on
the bus weird, because everyone knows how serious Wolverine is. Dude’s
got adamantium claws and can’t remember his past. Dostoyevsky, eat your
heart out.

Except, none of that’s true.

The problem is that Spiegelman and his disciples looked at EC Comics and MAD Magazine and saw an air of intellectualism in Harvey Kurtzman,
and assumed that’s where comics went right, and pumped it up a
thousandfold. They abandoned all the horror and humor that made those
comics popular for an attempt at respectability. They tried to make
comics for the “masses” (those masses being people who hang out at
Cambridge coffee houses and try and pick up Grad-Students with an
insightful critique of China’s economic development they culled from
last year’s New Yorker) and lost what made comics, you know,
comics. Liefeld and the Image guys recaptured that to a certain degree,
but they were never able to get that underlying intellectualism down. It
was a perfect mix, that everyone took the extremes of and lost what
made it truly great. (The Wally Wood art didn’t hurt either.)

That air of intellectualism and is an important feature of EC and
MAD, no doubt, but its beneath the surface to a large extent, or at
least as beneath the surface as a 1950’s comic could be. Kids didn’t
read EC and MAD to find out about Cuba’s strategic geo-political value
or Soviet Collectivism, they wanted to see poop jokes and ghouls ripping
limbs off unsuspecting college students, and Marra perfectly captures
that feeling. Gangsta Rap Posse is steeped in the history of
Gangsta Rap, but Marra doesn’t allow that to constrain the book. It’s
all there if you want it, but the book is first and foremost an
exploration of a 12-year old’s perception of NWA and Gangsta Rap. A view
warped by the perception that the band itself put forward and the
media’s further distortion under Reaganomics skewed morality. He makes
comics warped by white suburbia’s fears of the violent, aggressive and
subversive extremes of art and culture. Something Robert Crumb would
have loved, if he hadn’t turned into a old curmudgeon who yells at his
direct (rather than theoretical*) descendants to get off his lawn.

NWA smokes crack, fucks hookers and kills cops. The end. So why not
make a comic about that, and not the 10,000th auto-bio comic about how
you can’t get laid and no one understands you.
Marra makes fun comics first and foremost. That may be why he can do no wrong (currently), and Lincoln Washington is his best effort yet. It’s the exploitation movie Tarantino wishes he could make (and may now have)
done in twenty-three expertly crafted pages. Even his use (along with
the current crop of art/alt-comics creators) of the comics pamphlet is
revolutionary; a back to basics approach to comic making in the strain
of the original EC Comics shock aesthetic, reproduced on the disposable
newsprint (which American Psycho used perfectly)
that created the ideal of the trash culture of comics. No more
multi-arc genre deconstructions based on a Yeats poem the author
misunderstood, just single issue fistfights, with a little something
more if you want it. Straight up comics.

Even Marra’s books that end with a “to be continued…” read more like a threat than a promise of more to come. Maybe Marra has a Lincoln Washington #2 in mind, but #1 did everything I wanted and more. I’m not sure comics could handle a follow up.

I don’t know. I’ve had enough of intellectualism and pseudo-realism
in my comics. They have their place, i just don’t think that place is at
the forefront anymore. I just want comics to be comics again, and Marra
(and company) captures that aesthetic perfectly.

Also on your point of Marra’s apparent “lewdness” do you actually see
his comics as “lewd” or is it his use of violence and sexuality for
satirical purposes that causes that feeling? I assume that’s his intent,
to create lewd and obscene work, but I don’t think any Marra book is as
violent as anything that DC puts out (just look at an issue of Green
Lantern and you’ll see a female in far skimpier attire than anything
Marra depicts disemboweled for 20 pages at a time) or as sexual. If
anything it’s less, since Marra is depicting a slave ripping out his
“owners” spine purely for laughs (even the slave-owners rape of Lincoln
Washington’s wife, although horrific, is done with the readers knowledge
that he’s going to get what’s coming to him sooner rather than later).
Maybe the problem is that Marra makes the reader complacent, or even
proactive in the violence? I know when I saw what happened to everyone I
was gleeful. I literally rushed out to make my brother read it and
point out panels to him. While when you read the same thing in a Batman
comic you’re kind of disturbed by the whole experience. Batman’s real,
or at least his world is portrayed as real, Marra’s is always firmly
dealing in the fictional.

AB: While the content plays into the humor or
Marra’s fascination with trash entertainment, it is, by nature, still
provocative, and I wouldn’t go as far as to say a DC or Marvel comic is
worse or just as bad. Maybe in terms of the context, yes, a Marvel or DC
can take a lighthearted thing like Green Lantern and pervert it through
violence or an overly serious tone, but the violence, by itself, is
still technically worse and more explicit in a Marra book. But it can
feel lighthearted, as you say, because of association through humor or
knowing exactly what you’re reading from the start. Batman going out and
raping someone or whatever will come at more of a shock and leave more
of an impact (that’s for you, Joey) just because of the expectations
placed on a Batman comic. A Ben Marra comic brings with it a whole other
bag of expectations. So, to a degree, I can agree with your point.

I’m not trying to demean Marra’s subjects or make these comics out to
be offensive. In fact, I find the lewd quality as a definite benefit to
the work because I feel it helps accomplish the mission of what Marra’s
doing, in that, these are w to people.
You should read Gangsta Rap Posse or Night Business
alone in your room, and when your mom walks in, tuck it under the bed..
It brings back that idea of hiding shit from your parents. Like, even
now in my own apartment, I stack Marra’s stuff underneath other comics
because I don’t want someone to walk into my room and get any ideas
about the shit I’m into. But again, that’s cool. Like you usually say,
“comics as weapons.” Or comics being the poison which ruins your kids. I
love that concept or perspective on the medium.

I like your thought on Marra’s violence making a reader more
proactive because I do think he uses violence in such a way, as do
stories or entertainment of this sort. Especially for this subject
matter where good and evil are so black and white (no pun intended). You
can’t help but cheer Lincoln Washington on. And that even comes down to
the characterization. Washington is such a set-in-stone hero and the
Klansmen are such vile pieces of shit. Nothing’s grey, and it completely
dodges this current idea of what we see in super hero comics or other
stories in general. Every character has turned into a washboard,
contemplating life’s big questions before acting. Marra’s characters
just do what they do without any further thought. Bad real life
practice, great fictional stance.

But as for participating in that violence, or anticipating it,
banking on it … I do find that an interesting way to read into people.
Trash entertainment, being what it is, speaks to that savage side of us.
That side that’s not really concerned about the consequences but just
wants bloodshed, tits and hard drugs. You could go into a whole debate
about whether it’s a good thing to stir up that side of our psyche or
not, but I feel the point is it’s there. We possess such an instinct,
and storytelling such as this feeds or at least exercises that shit out
in a relatively safe way.

There’s more to say about these types of work than just wish fulfillment or humor. Maybe they help keep us sane?

For Lincoln Washington, it’s about payback. It’s about
rubbing shit in the white man’s face as well as confronting some of that
white guilt – on top of being about a man ripping another guy’s spine
out. And it all sort of satisfies by the end, no matter the reader’s
skin color, because you feel in a sense justice has been rightfully
served, fictionally. But though fiction, it still hits and means
something. The reaction either is one of they got what they deserved, or
I, being the white man, totally needed my ass kicked.

Maybe that’s an unnecessary reading, but I like the idea of Marra’s
work both being trash as well as well-thought out and intelligent. I
feel much of that resides in Lincoln Washington, and it builds a
little on what you were saying about the violence inciting a proactive
response. The violence has a purpose. Like all the best stories.

How did you feel about the inking style on this book? It sort of reverted back, in a sense, to what he did before Gangsta Rap Posse
#2. Does it fit the book for you? I would say so. The bold blacks
certainly give the story more of a defined stance, and the inking really
helps to depict Washington’s character as this bad ass hero type who
appears cut from stone.

SS: He certainly has a lot more spot blacks in Lincoln Washington, a contrast from his last work (Gangsta Rap Posse #2) which was all line work. I’m not sure if it’s a reversion, though. His early inking style is quite heavy handed, while Lincoln Washington’s inking seems like more of a continuation from Gangsta Rap Posse than a reversion. His
inking here is more restrained than his previous works, and utilized
with greater purpose, something that I wouldn’t generally identify with
Marra. By doing away with all the excess inking, Marra seems to have
figured out when and where it’s absolutely necessary to the story and
leave it out in any other instance.

In Gangsta Rap Posse #2 Marra choose not to distinguish the
black cast from the white with any additional shading or color, that
probably stems from trying to keep the colors (black & white) in
balance on the page, along with streamlining the process. It works on
that project, and there’s a definite improvement in the art between
issues #1 and #2, but in Lincoln Washington it needed the blacks to
distinguish the character from his surroundings.

Lincoln Washington is the only black character in the book (except
for his wife, who appears for a total of three pages), and he’s entering
an “alien” and hostile place (Post-Civil War South), so his color has
to be at the forefront, requiring a heavy shading/color process to
separate him from the white residence. What could be ignored in Gangsta Rap Posse really can’t in Lincoln Washington. Race is a far more prominent detail.

If you look at the first page of Lincoln Washington, the
only two objects that are completely black are Lincoln Washington and
the title “O’ Sins of Men, What Demon Fathered You” which both
distinguishes Lincoln from his surroundings and connects him with the
title explicitly, the title both works as a comment on the sins of
racism (America’s original sin) and Lincoln Washington, who is a man
empowered by the souls of slaves to avenge the wrong doings perpetrated
by white slaveholders. The colors are used as a way of separating and
defining Lincoln as a character.

I also want to expand on Marra’s use of the six panel grid which you
touched on. His layouts are simple, concise, and have a great 1-2 beat,
while the nine panel grid always seemed too dense (probably due to its
association with Alan Moore and Dave Gibbon’s Watchmen) and
anything less reads too fast (Widescreen comics and their Three/Four
panel grid for example are closely associated with decompression). The
six panel grid allows Marra to tell a whole story, both between each
panel, and over the course of twenty-three pages, without any sense of
decompression, or limiting his artwork by confining it in an overly
dense panel.

Marra’s ability to keep his pages kinetic has always impressed me,
and I think the six panel grid has a lot to do with it. He has a
particularly stiff line compared to most artists, which he uses to a
great effect in showing his characters body language and adding a subtle
hint of contrast between his characters by playing with their bodies
“stiffness” and “looseness” on the page. But his line’s stiffness never
seems to constrain the action. Everything’s in constant motion on a
Marra page, making it seem that each panel is being pushed into the
next. I think this is where the grids’ simplicity comes into effect. It
allows the action to flow smoothly from one panel to another while still
remaining clear and rhythmic, which Marra uses to offset anything
static about his line work.

*Johnny Ryan and Ben Marra have more in common with Crumb content wise (especially Crumbs early work) than every artist RAW published
combined, and yet Crumb identifies with the latter instead of the
former. Going so far as to criticize Johnny Ryan for his content. Which
always seemed odd from a man who started out drawing a mixture of racist
and perverted comics meant to offend squares in San Francisco.

So
we filed our last Spandexless Reads column this week, you may have
missed it due to it being posted at 7pm on a Saturday night over SDCC
weekend, i doubt that was intentional, and merely an editorial
oversight. I mean who's supposed to know when columns go up?
Sure as fuck ain't me.

I
liked that final column, Alec writes a nice good bye and keeps things
professional. If there's one thing that guy is, its professional. Chad
and Rick contributed stellar entries, Joey abstained (or simply stopped
caring to contribute, either one is likely), and i wrote a 1,200 word
pile of petty bullshit. Because that's who i am.

We
were fired because we changed the focus of the column from short
snippets on what we were reading (akin to every other site on the
internet) into something more focused on long form discussions of
creators work, interviews, and essays ranging from Manga's use of
violence to european erotica to old Ed Brubaker comics, and that was all
very unacceptable. It broached the readers trust, and trust is paramount to everything i guess.

What
they objected to was everything that i loved about that column, it was
unwieldy, unpredictable and unrelenting. It started out as a derivative
thing that aspired to be just that, and evolved into a jam piece that we
could all fuck around with each week.

What they saw as us "filling words", i saw as evolving past a stale premise.

But, hey, whatever it's their site. I hear they got a great scoop on some My Little Pony comics. So goodluck to them.

Column highlights (for me):

Alec Berry's essays on The Nightly News and The End of the Fucking World. Those were gangbuster.Everything Rick Vance wrote, not one dud in the bunch.

Friday, July 6, 2012

Shawn Starr: Michael DeForge straddles the line between the alt-comics premiere horror creator and the next Clowes. His primary book, Lose, is probably the clearest example of this. Lose
#2 tells the story of a child befriending an animal and finding
happiness. While that sounds like a made for Disney Channel movie (I’m
fairly certain that’s the plot to Air Bud only without basketball and an
evil clown), DeForge depicts the child not in the Disneyfied “I just
moved to a new town that banned Basketball because the preacher didn’t
like all the gyrations” pre-teen angst way, but instead as an insular
and bullied child. But, not to be reduced to a pure Clowes-ian mix of
depression and cynicism, DeForge injects a horror element. The child’s
new best friend is a severed horse head piloted by an “alien” spider who
infects the child’s tormentors with a horrendous rash and whose
offspring eventually overrun the city. Even his artwork is a mix of
Clowes’s clean line mixed with Ware’s geometric circles, only with an
added layer of sweat and grime to make it his own.

In a review, Stephen Bissette said he would have loved to publish Incinerator
in Taboo, which is a perfect way to describe DeForge’s output. A horror
artist / anthology that became so much more (from a re-imagining of EC
to the publisher of From Hell). Even his short in Thickness
#2 (College Girls By Night) takes the genre tropes and overt social
commentary of old EC horror stories and adds layers of depth that those
stories could never achieve. It’s a simple werewolf story that’s
inverted into a commentary on transgender sexuality and gender identity.

Dudes got chops.

Spotting Deer, like Lose and Thickness,
takes on a familiar format and twists it into something new. Riffing on
old nature documentaries (the kind you watched when you Biology teacher
is out sick), DeForge creates a near perfect homage. All the story beats
are there, the uncomfortable section on mating rituals (DeForge’s
depiction of the “Sexual Aqueduct” perfectly captures that feeling of
awkwardness experienced in a sixth grade classroom) and the oddly
nationalistic / hyperbolic statement on the animals importance in
popular culture and ecosystem. The book is even designed like an old CRT
monitor, and its use of the four panel grid is reminiscent of a
slideshow presentation.Even the close up of the “Snout” resembles one of
those cheap plastic anatomy figures you’d find in a high school science
class.

So, Joey, what makes this your favorite work by DeForge?

Joey Aulisio: It’s not just my favorite work by DeForge but probably one of my favorite comics period. I told a story on a chemical box episode
about how I read this comic and nothing else, every single day for
about a month. Something about this book just hooked me like few other
books in recent years have.That said, I have found it difficult to
explain why it resonated with me so much. What I can figure is that at
the time I read it, I was going through a phase where I was just sick of
comics and “comics culture” and really contemplated disengaging with it
permanently. I don’t know what your interpretation of the story is, but
I saw it as Deforge going through that same line of thought.
I think DeForge started out trying to make a book savaging the
“fanboys” and then by the end realizing he was just like them, which was
the real horror of it all. That moment of realization rendered by
DeForge is truly chilling, nobody draws disappointment and disgust quite
like him. A turn of the cheek says a thousand words.

Shawn Starr: I hadn’t considered that reading. It certainly makes the last page hit a lot harder. Obsessing over Spotting Deer
(or comics) for years and writing a book, just to be asked “Why?”
during a reading. Then to add insult to injury, watching your life’s
work end up on a bargain table and ultimately the dump being picked over
by wildlife.

I think the “savaging” is to intimate to be from a fanboy. My reading
of it is more as an affirmation of DeForge place as a cartoonist. He
may have started as an outside figure (the writer), but once he (the
writer) appears it moves away from the first half’s exploration of
“herd” (nerd) culture and becomes explicitly about cartooning.

The panel when the writer takes a picture of the spotted deer reminds
me of those old Sci-Fi shows when people switch bodies or imprint their
conscience on someone else. From that panel on, I think DeForge
realized he was one of the spotted deer. A part of the “study group”. It’s even more explicit on the next page when all the “deers” social anxieties are superimposed over the writer’s image.
Then there is the “Deer in Society” section, moving away from home to
the city (but not before being ostracized by your family / community),
the “ink spot” neighborhoods, the livejournal communities and the “pay
farms” where their “psychic meat” adapts the characteristics of other
products; It seems to all be there, the artist communities, the
livejournal groups (now twitter), DeForge’s work as a storyboard artist
(along with countless other cartoonists).

Joey Aulisio: Maybe you are right in that a
“savaging of fanboys” is too easy a way to reconcile this work, and it’s
actually just about being a cartoonist/working in comics or maybe just
working in a creative field to paint with a broader brush. It still
seems like what DeForge is talking about is very specific to comics
though (and how could it not be considering it was presented in comic
form).
Comics have a certain stigma to them that other mediums do not have,
you get the impression that if you worked for 20 years in comics and
weren’t successful, most people would say “well why did you waste your
time on these silly things” (you would probably get that reaction even
if you were a success in comics, let’s be honest) whereas replace comics
with film, literature, music, etc. the response would be “well at least
you gave it a shot, you tried to live your dream”. Failure in other
mediums is still viewed as more triumphant than a success in comics
which is still viewed as tragic or sad.

Now take Deforge, clearly a master of his craft just a few years into
the game. He’s someone that sits heads and shoulders above his peers,
and I guarantee he has been given more attention for working on
Adventure Time (or his 5 page Adventure Time story)
than anything he has done in comics. That has to get to you after
awhile. When the writer at the end stands on that podium and gets asked
basically “why do you keep doing this?”, it really hits that point home
and must be hard for you to reconcile after a certain point.

I am sure working in comics can be fun, but from all accounts it
seems to be rather exhausting most of the time with little reward.
“Depression. Anxiety Attacks, Migraines. and Sleep Disorders”, comics
will destroy you if you let them. Now you sit in front of a desk drawing
away at things that mean so much to you, and you put out something you
feel proud of just to have someone in an audience ask “this is alright,
but when are you going to move onto a real thing like a novel or a
film?” , and then knowing your work is probably going to end up lining a
litter box one day. It’s a sobering thought.

Shawn Starr: Yeah, it difficult to watch Ware and
Hernandez remain in relative obscurity, while Mark Millar and Stan Lee
are household names. No matter how much talent they bring to the craft,
they’re always just making funnybooks. That is, until those funny books
become movies.

Since I like to end things on a down note, I guess we’ll end things here.

------------------------------------------------ If you want to read Spotting Deer you can find it here and purchase it here

Saturday, June 30, 2012

- That Catwoman cover reminds me of that one time when all those comic artists didn’t know how to draw.

- That cover is especially heinous because Guilem March draws
pornography on the side, which requires a certain understanding of
proportionality and the ability to draw an attractively posed female, none of which were on display on that cover.

- Secret Invasion is the worst event comic of all time; it’s
baffling that it ever saw print. There is literally a scene in the
first issue where Ares says that the Skrulls in the Savage Lands are
meant as a distraction and they should leave. Four issues later, and
they finally say fuck it and leave to go punch the space armada away. I just don't get it.

- Judd Winick is a sexist ass clown who’s last relevant work died with Bill Clinton’s hollow promise to end AIDS.

- Top three comics of the year (so far): Incinerator, Lincoln Washington, Prophet. All three are perfect representations of their authors artistic vision and redefine their respective genres while still existing within there confines.

- Superman: Truth Justice and the American Way (along with
Alex Ross’s body of work) illustrates the major problem with fanboy
critiques; the book simply dismisses and mocks the idea of The Authority without properly countering it intellectually or showing why its way is better. All Star Superman was a twelve issue rebuke, Superman #775
was twenty two pages of incessant whining. It's a creative and
ideological failures, instead of showing why their way is better, they
recap past moments of “glory” and expect nostalgia to win the day.
Nostalgia is a bitch though, and not to be relied on.

- Prometheus represents the first major conflict of film’s
auteur theory (director centered) and television’s show runner/writer.
Aaron Sorkin may have been the first to cross over, but he’s
white-bread. Inoffensive. Lost resulted in a giant bag of
pissed off snakes when it ended, so what you get is one of the biggest
directors of all time, returning to one of the biggest sci-fi
franchises,written by the screenwriter of one of the biggest shows of
all time, and no one knows who to assign credit and blame to. Five years
ago, no one would have mentioned the writer (except in the case of
Charlie Kaufman), but with the progression of TV and its spillover, in
this case, the writer is taking center stage in the discussion.

- Ryan Sands was interviewed about his and Michael Deforge’s porn anthology Thickness, whose third and final issue is debuting at CAKE this week, on Inkstuds. The first two issues of Thickness
were phenomenal, particularly the 2nd issue which featured the best
short story of the year in DeForge’s College Girls By Night along with a
stunning Angie Wang short. To say i'm excited for the third issue may be an understatment.

- “Ether” is the hardest dis’ track ever recorded (Hit ‘em Up is #2)

- This week in Amazon orders: Joe Sacco’s Journalism and Josh Simmons The Furry Trap. There may be a theme to be found, but I’m just not sure what it is.

- Watched Lost Boys for the first time. What a goddamn weird ass movie.

- Just started reading Lunar Park after finishing Imperial Bedroom
last week. I’ve been on a big Bret Easton Ellis kick for the past two
months, following Chad Nevett and Joey Allusio’s recommendations. Imperial Bedroom was billed as a sequel to Less Than Zero,
but it’s more so a culmination of Ellis’s entire body of work,
interweaving themes and techniques from his previous novels into one single thought.

- One of the best Horror documentaries ever made is Never Sleep Again, a 4 hour long retrospective of the Nightmare on Elm Street
franchise. It’s fascinating both if you’re a fan of the franchise or
simply interested in how a indie horror film about dreams captured the
cultural zeitgeist.

- The Comics Journal reprinted an old Alan Moore interview just in time for the release of Scab: The Book.

- Morrison was honored by the queen. Between that, Rags Morales, and Matt Seneca’s All Star Superman review, dude’s had a tough year.

- Judd Apatow’s involvement in Girls is a perfect thematic progression in the context of his television work. Freaks and Geeks, Undeclared and now Girls center around the struggle to find ones identity between major life changes (high school, college, and post-college) and the changes that entails.

- I remember growing up and Hellraiser being one of the few
movies my parents barred me from watching. I re-watched it a few days
ago and can see why, although I’m fairly certain they thought it was
just too scary for a twelve year old, and not because the film is a
dissection of fetishism and power play. The films popularity is really
unsettling.

- I’d like to thank everyone for spoiling League of Extraordinary Gentleman: Centuries 2009 for me two weeks before its release. Really appreciate that.

- If the new Aesop Rock single is anything to go by, his new album is going to be ridiculous.

- I tend to dump title ideas in a word document and use them when
applicable. Here is one that won’t be applicable for a while: “I just
want to be inside you, like up in your vagina with my dick. Exploring
that moist cavern like Captain Nemo and The Nautilus. And then, after
due diligence (like 3 minutes?) inseminating your pussy with my sea-men.
AKA DON’T STOP BELIEVING “

- I don't think my editors ever read my submissions. It would explain a lot. (Although this "though" being cut out of the original post may contradict this point)

Friday, June 15, 2012

a.k.a. “No arrows. These words will have to do.”originally published over at Spandexless
written by two guys who have little else to do.

Alec Berry: I forget why we decided to do this, but
here we are … preparing to discuss the legend himself, Rob Liefeld, and
the legacy-drenched comic book that is Youngblood #1. I would be lying if I said I was not interested in having this conversation.
Of course, it is a big year for Liefeld what with the relaunch of
Extreme Studios and his involvement with DC Comics, so it seems
appropriate to state Liefeld as a figment of the current zeitgeist.
That’s probably why we’re here.

And we need an excuse to talk about Liefeld.

Honestly, I like the guy, and in some sense I feel we’re all way past
the days of stunted conversation based solely on “hating” him. Few of
those claims possessed any evidence to begin with. People just needed a
scapegoat for the trash of 1990s comic books that they took it out on
the guy who established one of the decades key aesthetics rather than
the numerous imitators who wrung it dry and cannibalized the thing.
Liefeld may not produce deep or even always technically efficient
comics, but the one thing he has up on a lot of creators is his
uncontainable energy, passion and overall voice. That stuff overpowers
the mechanical flaws, for me, and while all the energy and love only
produces over the top action, I feel that’s wildly appropriate,
especially for superhero comics.
A guy like Liefeld humbles the medium, drawing us back from the ever
present desire to legitimize what’s created and what’s read; the
experience reminds a reader of the childlike wonderment which can be
associated with the artform as well as the slightly exploitative element
associated with the superhero genre.

And the best part … all of Liefeld’s work is genuine. He’s a genuine
motherfucker making the comic books he wants to make while knowing
exactly what it is he’s making. He’s not kidding you like a Matt
Fraction Mighty Thor pitch which tries to get religious or is
made out to be the next great work in modern comics. If Liefeld tells
you’re getting a comic about Youngblood fighting terrorists, that’s
exactly what you’ll get, no unnecessary varnish applied throughout.
Yet, while I say his work aims low and is low, I do hold this odd
opinion that Liefeld’s visual style sort of reworks Kirby’s, in a sense.
Kirby influenced super hero cartooning because of the language he
created. Liefeld sort of did something similar, I think, but more in
terms of an aesthetic and maybe tone. So, yeah, maybe there’s a argument
for Liefeld’s higher importance. If you want to go there.
Could I only read Rob Liefeld comics? No. But as part of a varied
industry, Liefeld has a place. And that’s without mentioning Image and
the historical component you could place on his person.
So, Shawn, let’s get into this and discuss this somewhat larger than life personality and creator.
Where we going?

Shawn Starr: I’m fairly certain I broached the
subject during a drunken email at 2 A.M, which is when all my great
ideas occur. I’m kind of like Hemingway in that sense. I also like to
take credit for other people’s ideas, so I’m kind of like Stan Lee too.
Why would anyone want to discuss Rob Liefeld’s Youngblood, especially after everyone’s told us how inept a creator he is? Simple, Liefeld is one of comics most interesting figures, and Youngblood is one of his most important works.

Also most of those criticisms (as you pointed out) are dubious.
Liefeld was selling 1 million copies of X-Force a month at the age of twenty-two. To put that in perspective, I’m twenty-two and do not sell 1 million copies of X-Force
each month. In addition to simply selling comics by the metric ton,
Liefeld single handedly defined a decade of comic art, and was a
founding member of Image Comics, which, depending on who you ask
(*cough* Gary Groth*cough*) represents one of the biggest leaps forward
in comic publishing since the inception of the Direct Market.

And, while I don’t subscribe to the quantity equals quality idea, that’s a career which requires inspection.

As you noted, Liefeld has experienced a resurgence of late, with the
recent relaunch of Extreme Studios and his work on several DC relaunch
titles. Liefeld has at least one book out each week (he’s currently
overseeing the production of nine books total) which is more than many
small publishers. But, Liefeld wouldn’t be the topic of our discussion
today just because he produces nine books a month. I mean IDW puts out
at least that many and who cares about them.

There’s something else to Liefeld.

What makes Liefeld, well, Liefeld is his style. When you look at one
of his pages or creations it just screams Liefeld, he imbues everything
he touches with his essence. If Cable wasn’t weighed down by 500 pounds
of guns and ammo, then he wouldn’t be Cable. And that’s Liefeld.
Everything he creates is extreme, an action movie on every page, and not
just a “failed movie pitch” that comics have recently become the
repository for, a genuine action movie. Schwarzenegger in his heyday
shit. Which, in an industry of endless possibilities, is a sight for
sore eyes.
Liefeld is one of two direct heirs to Kirby, the other being
art-comix god Gary Panter. Both creators filtered the essence of Kirby
through their own distinct visions, creating dramatically different
bodies of work, but always keeping Kirby’s kinetic energy in mind.

Panter filtered Kirby through a punk rock attitude and high art
sensibility to create the definitive style of the art-comix movement. He
reduced Kirby’s line work to a single jagged line, yet maintained all
of the original’s energy. Panter is distilled Kirby. He was even able to
capture Kirby’s sense of epic scale (Fourth World), with Jimbo (Panter’s most famous creation) embarking on a tour through Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy. Panter took Jimbo biblical, the closest thing he could do to capture Kirby’s cosmic ideals.

Liefeld, in stark contrast, took Kirby’s line work and added onto it
(a reverse Vince Colletta of sorts) filtering it through Manga
sensibilities and supercharging each page. If Panter was a reductionist,
Liefeld was an expansionist. Throwing lines on top of lines, cross
hatching each image like a schizophrenic who was about to discover the
inner workings of the universe if only he could just ink one more line.
And then throwing on some Manga infused speed lines to drive the point
home.
His pages are a truly awesome experience.

Liefeld said (in a wonderful interview with Jim Rugg)
that he never allowed an inker to touch his faces, because they could
never capture that pure “Liefeld-ian” look. He also gave every page one
final pass. Another round of rendering. Cross hatching to the nth
degree. And that’s where the image becomes a Liefeld image. An entire
decade’s worth of artists tried to ape his style, Multi-Media
Conglomerates created house styles around him, and yet, no one can draw
like Liefeld. Just like no one can draw like Kirby.

If Jaime Hernandez has distilled his art to a single line, Rob Liefeld has distilled his to a thousand.
You say Liefeld’s work plays to the lowest common denominator (in
much kinder words), which in some respects is true. There’s no grand
theory of life to be found in Youngblood. The first issue has
some basal levels of satire, however strained, but it’s not particularly
refined or biting. It’s definitely not Watchmen, but then
again it was never trying to be. He just wanted to make fun comics,
which is something few creators even attempt today. You call it genuine,
I call it true to itself. It’s all the same.
What I see as Liefeld’s lasting legacy (besides his involvement with
creator rights and Image) is his effect on the current generation of
creators. While the initial crop of art-comix creators grew up on Crumb
and later Panter, this new generation grew up on Liefeld and Image
Comics. It may only be a fleeting moment, but for the next few years his
importance is going to become increasingly evident, as the new vanguard
of creators move away from the old and begin to reinterpret their
childhood influences. Which, by and large, means Rob Liefeld, the
defining artists of the 90’s.

The most important art-comix movement since RAW, the Fort Thunder
Collective, were the first to begin this distancing from the past. The
two most prominent members CF whose angelic line work was so different
from what had come before that it redefined the look of much of the
genre, and Brian Chippendale who is a self avowed Marvel Fanboy (writing one of the best review sites in comics),
on an initial glance one would think of him as an acolyte of Panter,
but, and I love this quote, he belongs to the 90’s “When I grew up I
didn’t want to draw like Panter, I wanted to be Jim Lee” (this quote is
second hand, from the RUB THE BLOOD
Inkstuds podcast). Together they show a progression in the medium, away
from the old guard and towards something new. To highjack Frank
Santoro’s idea (and Comics Comics), they represent fusionism, taking
from everything to create something new. And Liefeld is a key component
as of late, he defined a decade of art. His influence is impossible to
escape. I mean just look at the creators attached to last years RUB THE BLOOD, and you’ll see a who’s who of art-comix.

And that is not even going into the Extreme Studios relaunch, which has produced one of the best sci-fi comics of the decade (Prophet) along with what will soon be heralded as the most progressive take on a female superhero since Wonder Woman was created (Glory).
Or the lasting popularity and resurgence of his Marvel work. There was a
time (and it still may be) when Deadpool was the most popular character
in comics, and just last year Uncanny X-Force and Deadpool MAX
were two of the most critically praised Big 2 books being published.
None of these titles are by him, but they required him to give them
life.

As an aside, the criticisms of Liefeld are largely unfounded. Sure he
ignores anatomy, but so does Ware, Crumb, and for a more mainstream and
generally excepted example Jim Lee. It’s just that everyone of those
guys is given a pass, it’s their “style”, which is true, but the same
reasons it’s ok for them to ignore anatomy are, for some reason, not
applicable to Liefeld.
Being critiqued for his lack of realism, a feature which his art has
never attempted to capture, is missing the point of Liefeld. His art is
decadent and expansive. It’s telling that this is what the masses of
pseudo-critics jump onto. Realism is largely a constraint on art that
individuals try to pass off as valid criticism against something they
don’t understand. Kyle Baker summed it up best “in art, as in life,
‘realism’ is for the uncreative.” Of course this is what they latch
onto, because they don’t or can’t understand what it is Liefeld is
doing.

If Liefeld drew like Alex Ross, I could see the validity in this line
of thought, but Liefeld has as much in common with Alex Ross (or Neal
Adams) as Matt Brinkman. His style is an extension of himself, not a
light-boxed photo from the recent Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue, it’s “abstract” and should not be constrained by the idea of realism.

Ok, thats my overlong re-contextualization of Liefeld. I may be
completely wrong and participated in a one man historical whitewashing,
so do you have anything you want to add, or should we begin this review
of Youngblood #1 after our brisk 1,800 word introduction?

AB: That Kyle Baker quote is great.

SS: He posted that on Twitter a couple days ago, and I couldn’t not steal it.

AB: Would you go as far as to say Liefeld is this
generation’s Kirby or do you feel his impact isn’t exactly that wide? I
feel he’s influential, but I wouldn’t exactly claim his influence to be
widespread like Kirby’s. Kirby’s thumb prints are on everything because
of the grammar he developed while Liefeld falls more in the camp of an
attitude rather than a fundamental. He’s kind of optional, but even
then, from the handful of alt comics I’ve touched and the blogs I read,
it does appear that some of Liefeld’s brashness works its way through.

I do find it funny, though, that Liefeld suddenly has received this
reevaluation. Like many influential people before him, hatred was their
initial response. Maybe Liefeld fits that bill, although he was liked,
generally, early on because of his difference to what was available at
the time.
But, yeah, that’s sort of where we’re at with Liefeld: taking this
despised dude and finally finding merit in his work. You could even work
Benjamin Marra into your whole thesis as well because like Marra, Youngblood
#1 is very much a comic book drawn in the back of some kid’s notebook.
It lacks the more obscene elements, but it is still rich with boyhood
fascinations. To steal from Ed Piskor, “the early Image comics are like
guys playing with actions figures, going “boom!” “bam!” “grrrghh!”

To be honest with you, I didn’t read this and concern myself with the
technicalities. I knew going in what it was, so instead, I went in for
the spirit, and I think, with that mindset, Youngblood #1
really pays off. You mention this sense of satire that doesn’t exactly
shape itself into anything, but I kind of feel it does simply through
what the comic is. Youngblood #1, by its quality, does satirize the whole of superhero comics, especially the post-Watchmen mindset of the time, subverting this idea of serious super hero comics to complete ridiculous mish-mash.

The whole flip book approach sort of works to undermine the serious
attitude too, bringing back some of that anthology flavor, like with Tales to Astonish.

SS: I’d describe Liefeld as Kirby-lite. I can’t
think of any other artist in the past twenty years who has had as great
an impact on the medium as Liefeld; he created hundreds of characters
and defined the mediums style for a decade, but Kirby is Kirby.
Liefeld probably comes the closest, but Kirby is such a monumental
and influential figure that no one could ever truly equal him. Tezuka
(Manga), Crumb (Art) and Moebius (Europe) are the only ones who can
match him, and even then they feel lacking. Kirby created the North
American comics industry almost single handedly; romance comics Kirby,
sci-fi comics Kirby super hero comics all Kirby; Liefeld revolutionized
one of those, so there is something to be said of him, but I don’t think
anyone can really be the “Kirby” of a generation. He’s too important.
Maybe you could describe him as the often trotted out “voice of a
generation”, if that doesn’t sound like too shallow a description. I
mean, there’s at least 20 “voices” to each generation nowadays so it
seems like a meaningless term.

So I guess my answer is no, but with the caveat that no one could really be the Kirby of their generation.

It’s also interesting to point out the differences in Liefeld’s
influence. The current “mainstream” comic culture seems to have latched
onto his creations (Deadpool, Cable, X-Force) while the alt-comics scene
has taken his visual aesthetic and attitude. That’s probably because of
the “mainstreams” current incarnation as a Intellectual Property
generator, and alt-comic’s focus on style and singular vision.
You mentioned the name of one of my favorite cartoonists Ben Marra,
who I almost named dropped in my initial response, but decided not to
for some reason. I can’t think of a creator more in tune with pure
Liefeld-ian style out there today. His comics are brash and unforgiving,
everything I love about Liefeld, and then he throws obscenity on top of
it. Scrawlings in a notebook seems to be an apt description for both
creators. There’s a childlike essence that exudes from both them that
stands out from the rest of the industry. Marra is Liefeld brought up on
Gangsta Rap instead of GI-Joes.
Your point on satire makes sense, but I’m not sure if that satire is
intentional or not. Where the Image founders crafting a meta-textual Dr. Strangelove, or simply making a B-Movie. Did Liefeld create Youngblood
as a reaction to Moore’s intellectualism, or a comic where things blew
up. That’s one of those things you need a dig up a brilliant quote to
find out. I have a feeling its perceived satire after the fact, and not a
great mega-critique played out by Image Comics.

AB: Oh, yeah. I don’t feel it’s intentional. As you said, it’s an effect brought up after the fact, but still, it’s an effect.

SS: Yeah, we’re probably just projecting satire onto them. Us kids and our need for irony and satire in everything we find genuine.

The most likely candidate, by Liefeld, is his mega-event Judgement Day. Which title alone sounds like Final Crisis
times ten thousand, but, and here’s the genius of it, it is really just
a three issue meta-commentary on the idea of retconing in the guise of a
courtroom case, written by Alan Moore.

Alan Moore!

The book reads like it was written for anyone but Liefeld, and in his
hands becomes anything but the procedural drama Moore had intended.
Imagine the courtroom scene in From Hell in the hands of Liefeld at his
peak, that’s Judgement Day.

Liefeld has this ability to overpower the writer on every page.
Liefeld renders each figure in such a way as to make their every action a
dramatic moment. Dialogue that’s meant to be subtle becomes laden with
invisible exclamation points in the hands of Liefeld; his cross hatching
seems to spill over onto the dialogue balloons. The best example of
this is his facial rendering (no one inks a Liefeld face except Liefeld
for a reason!) where every expression is contorted until it turns into
an abstraction that can only described as EXTREME! which even Moore
can’t escape.

If Judgement Day isn’t a satire of the idea of comics as
literature, and the ubiquitous mega event, then I’m not sure what it is.
Besides a testament to Liefeld’s power to overwhelm authorial intent.

AB: That’s the Image era in total. Nothing mattered
but the attitude and style, and all other elements either became
obsolete or excused. I just like how Liefeld still performs in such a
way, and in some sense, represents this era entirely by just being.
Liefeld doing a book today is like Gerry Conway doing one. You read it,
and it immediately takes you to a certain time like a novelty item.

But Liefeld, as we’ve mentioned, accomplishes a little more than a Gerry Conway retro comic.
Liefeld makes the visual end front and center, which for comic books
should be a given, but our culture’s so dead set on writers we lack the
necessary attention for the true writing. In some way, I think the Image
guys were some odd first step in making the mainstream audience wake up
and realize the importance of the artwork in comic books. Until then,
plot was really everything for the super hero book. The Image guys
didn’t exactly produce the best quality stuff, but by being so
flamboyant, they made it impossible not to appreciate the illustration
and just forget the plot.

SS: The swagger of youth …

AB: Think about that in context of the a-typical
comic reader. Fanboys brushing off the plot to rave about line work (a
lot of line work) instead. That’s nuts! It’s some twisted sense of an
art comics mentality. I want that world again, but instead, with an even
balance where both visual and script matter equally. If that’s
possible.

A first step, but an important one in many ways, and sadly it seems
with the crash and burn of the 90s, readers and creators buried that
step because supposedly art over story generated the fall.

SS: The 90’s were a time
when the artist took over, but, and I think this is a key point many
critics fail to mention, so were the 60’s. Kirby and Ditko ran Marvel
Comics creatively. Stan Lee was merely a editor who dialogued books.
When artists are in charge it seems to be indicative of an age of ideas
over content. If you look at those era’s you see the creation of
thousands of characters, all still in use today, and stories that exude
creativity. Writers tend to constrain this expansionism. Look at the
past 10 years in mainstream comics and show me a completely original
idea from a writer, or even a creation that’s stuck. You might be able
to squeak Damien past by Morrison, but he’s a derivative character, just
like the Rainbow Patrol over at Green Lantern. I just don’t see that being the same as Kirby creating an entire universe or Liefeld creating the Extreme Studios line.

The problem is that writers have been copying and referencing each
other since the start. Moore may have been a singular voice in the
comics medium (at first), but he was borrowing from a dozen other
writers, it’s just that no one in comics had heard of them. Writing’s a
conservative field really, inbred, while art is all about taking a blank
canvas and turning it into something more. There may be references and
homages but that’s only one panel in a twenty two page pamphlet. It
can’t sustain itself for any prolonged period, unlike writing.

Continuity hounds don’t get into comics to be artists, they’re writers for a reason.

Even the “Age of Awesome” collapsed in on itself around the
mid-2000’s because it lacked artists capable of seeing it through. The
writers of that movement were only able to succeed when they were paired
with the best artists in the industry. Casanova needed (needs) Ba’ and Moon, Bulletproof Coffin needed (needs) Shaky Kane and Immortal Iron Fist
needed David Aja. When you put Fraction on Iron Man with a lesser
artist it all falls apart. Ideas in the hands of a writer can’t sustain
themselves past their initial conception.

AB: While Ba’ and Moon give the book its agility, Casanova
is Matt Fraction. That’s a book about a writer – showing the journey
from wannabe professional to now comics company man, mixed with a sense
of sorting through influences, whether they’re life experiences or pop
culture tidbits. You can’t take Fraction out of Casanova.

You’re correct to a point. Sure, comic book writers need artists to
carry their ideas across the finish line as well as to provide the true
impact of these ideas – the visual – but to suggest it’s a one-sided
issue seems a bit erroneous. Liefeld’s a great example. His artwork
certainly provides the right stylistic punch, but beneath that style,
what is there? A poor story lacking a lot of necessary structure and
layer.
The work needs a writer to give it a sound foundation.

That’s why comic books are most often produced through a team effort.
The writer/artist team makes a lot of sense because where the artist
can ignore constraints the writer applies them, offering a sound balance
to keep a story in order. Stories need order, to a degree. They
function through their structure, most of the time. The artist can
certainly help add a sense of spontaneity, though, as well as help tell
the story and even rewrite a writer’s script to a degree. The artist is
most definitely important, but not every artist can be unleashed on
their own. Liefeld’s sort of an example of that – as well as many other
writer/artists in mainstream comics.

SS: Sure, you need the writer to provide structure.
But I’m not sure if those are the kinds of comics I want to read
anymore. There are maybe four or five writers who can craft a competent
book, and they all reside in the “mainstream”. Artist run every other
genre. There’s probably a reason why every major literary-comic is done
by a single creator. Or why the art-comix movement is run by singular
vision. Michel Fiffe just dropped the best DC comic of the year,
as a self-published, one man operation. If you think putting Adam Glass
on scripting duties would have improved that book…well I question your
judgement.

AB: Singular vision is certainly a preferred
circumstance, and it does seem to work well in art comics where I think
the mindset is more set on making a complete piece rather than a story
installment. But even then, it’s not like there’s one mindset going into
the creative process. The mindset of the writer and the artist are two
separate things, so even when you have one person writing and drawing a
comic, it’s arguable that one person comes from two different places.

Of course, I’ve never made a comic book, so what’s my theory, really? Speculation.
To point out of my personal interest, though, I would agree with you
in your current interest. I’m finding myself more and more attentive to
cartoonists these days versus collaborative teams, and ideally, I
suppose that’s how comics are meant to be. That’s not to say the
writer/artist team up is worthless, though, or that writers can’t push
their ideas out into the world mostly on their own. Look at Morrison.
Quitely certainly adds a lot, but even without Quitely, Morrison still
projects his voice.

One example, but it shows the possibility.

SS: I will backtrack a little and concede that Casanova
is Matt Fraction, but without Ba’ and Moon going all Steranko on that
bitch it would have lost its pop-comics feel. Pop art starts with pop
artists. Fraction set the tone, but Ba’ and Moon perfected the
aesthetic. That may have been that sweet spot you were waiting for, and
it came and went in four years without any mainstream support.
Morrison has a distinct voice (and just to point this out, he did
start out as an artist) and Quitely certainly does bring out the best in
him, but here’s the thing, Morrison has been hammering home his ideas
of hyper-sigils and Superman as god for nearly twenty years in hundreds
of comics, and the only time they really resonate is when Frank Quitely
comes into the fold. Flex Mentallo and All Star Superman are the clearest examples of Morrison’s ideas and both are illustrated by Quitely. Morrison needs Quitely.

But back to Liefeld…

AB: I’ll give you the point on Morrison. But, yes, Liefeld.

With all the praise we’ve given, we do need to be fair and recognize
the faults. Liefeld has certainly influenced some bad. And not even just
copycat artists but really whole publishing approaches. You can either look at Marvel Comics in the mid 90s or just dive into
Liefeld’s own back yard with Extreme Studios. With Extreme, North
American comics took on a whole new sense of factory line assembly, and
Marvel just really took the Image method and completely raped and bled
dry any of the charm associated with it (although, third and fourth wave
Image titles kind of did this too), creating this culture of comic
books dependent on gimmicks above quality (without any of the energy
Liefeld or the other Image guys put into the work).

You could even make a case Liefeld had a big influence on internet
hate culture, being the shining beacon of it he has been. At least in
comic book “discussion.”

Expand on these, Starr. I’m going outside.

SS: Yeah, this part’s inevitable when discussing
Liefeld. For all his swagger and attitude, he certainly has his faults.
Liefeld has this uncanny ability to overcome most of his artistic
weaknesses; he certainly doesn’t care about page to page continuity like
every critic on the internet seems to (unless
the credits don’t read “Artist: Rob Liefeld”). And, like you, I don’t
see most of this as a blasphemous act against comics. The rawness of his
art saves it from most of its technical faults.

AB: Yeah. Oddly, enough, I started reading this
Replacements oral history by Jim Walsh today, and there’s this great
quote from Westerberg about their performance style:

“To like us, you have to try and understand us. You can’t come in and
just let your first impression lead you. Because your first impression
will be a band that doesn’t play real well, is very loud, and might be
drunk. Beneath that is a band that values spirit and excitement more
than musical prowess. To me, that’s rock and roll, and we’re a rock and
roll band.”

That really sums up Liefeld for me, and in a lot of ways, that’s what I want comics to be. Twenty-some pages of spirit.

SS: Yeah, Liefeld is all about spirit over
technical prowess. When his work fails though, is when it starts to
restrain itself. Conservatism is Liefeld’s death knell.Youngblood #1 is split into two separate stories, sixteen pages each, and I think both stories highlight Liefeld’s faults.

“Youngblood: International” (the two teams aren’t distinguished, so
I’m using this name for the non-Shaft lead team, and “Youngblood:
Stateside” for the main team) is pure action; one page of framing in the
post-DKR media lens format followed by fifteen pages of nonstop action.
This segment is the most Liefeldian of the two, which makes it the most
interesting overall. The story itself is fairly straightforward; the
team goes into occupied Israel to take out a Saddam Hussein stand in.
It’s choppy in the dialogue, and the middle bit seems to get away from
Liefeld at a certain point, but the final sequence with Psi-Fire brings
it back. It’s labeled the “1st Explosive Issue” which is a perfect
title. Its Liefeld in all his glory and ruin. Pure artistic expression.

“Youngblood: Stateside” is the weaker of the two artistically, but a
significant step up in a craft perspective. Everything flows, the pacing
is sound and the exposition is a little heavy handed at points but
nothing to complain about. This issue fails, though, where so many
Liefeld projects fail; they are restrained at the very last moment. The
story ends with a splash page showing Youngblood about to stop a gang,
and results in this hard stop that kills the story. So many of Liefeld’s
projects seem to restrain him at the last moment, forcing him to draw
non-action, dialogue heavy, exposition scenes, and then once they get to
the fight, stops dead and calls it a day. It’s not even Liefeld’s fault
most of the time. It is just how comics are written nowadays.

Although the panel where Shaft throws a pen across a mall and knocks a would be assassin of a rail to his death is pure Liefeld.

“No Arrows. This pen will have to do.”

AB: I laughed, gleefully, at that scene, along with the scene of Chapel kicking his one night stand out.

SS: “You gotta give ‘em hope… As Shaft would say ‘it’s good P.R. !’” reads like a line out of Gangsta Rap Posse.

AB: Great moments.

AB: I’m glad you pointed out the pacing of the
Stateside story because I too found it to actually be way better than
anything I would have expected from this comic. I mean, there are
moments when the flow is so on, most comics today could actually take a
lesson from it and improve. Particularly, I’m thinking of the scene in
the headquarters as they receive the mission brief and Shaft ends the
sequence by exclaiming: “Then let’s move it!”

That was some exciting shit, to be perfectly honest.

You’re completely right when you mention the story being cut short,
because it is. Completely. And I really wonder what decision led to such
a choice. Really, reading what was already there, who’s to say without
the abrupt cliffhanger, this comic might have actually received some
love and not gone down as the mistake it historically has. Up until
then, the main story wasn’t exactly on a horrible track. Cheesy dialogue
and situations, certainly, but not exactly bad.

Part two, or “Youngblood: International,” flipflops, like you
mention, into a complete reversal of the plot beat Stateside is. Looking
at the two halves, it really just seems like Liefeld split one script
rather than constructing two complete stories. Blending the best aspects
of both into one story could have really worked. Together, they possess
everything necessary.

But, no, he splits them, and ultimately that’s a fault of trying to
interject too many characters into one book. Liefeld’s concerned with
setting both of these teams up in one issue, and to do so, he chooses a
route that just sticks a knife in the gut of the script. I also think he
was just trying to make this comic book feel packed by offering two
“stories,” but instead the gimmick just offers two comic book halves
rather than one whole.

To offer one positive critique, though, I love how he just drops us
into the world with little explanation or definition of the rules. The
comic’s actually pretty good about that. Liefeld takes the punch first,
ask later approach, and, I think, does it well. Youngblood #1 is kind of an exciting first issue rather than another thesis statement, as we’re used to today.

What about Liefeld outside the comics, though? Do you have any opinions on Extreme Studios or the outside negative affect?

SS: I agree with you. If Liefeld had synthesized the
two issues into one, it would have been a much more satisfying read. He
just couldn’t get those stories to gel. So we get one competent, but
short story, and one extended action scene.

I haven’t read any of the old Extreme Studios titles; this year’s relaunch was my first contact with them. As I said above, Prophet is the best comic coming out each month, Glory is strong and getting better and Bloodstrike
was probably the weakest of the bunch. It fell into the classic Liefeld
problem of restraining the artist. Every action scene was cut short so
that talking heads can lay out some exposition to catch the reader up on
continuity. I dropped that one after its first issue, so it may have
found its bearings.

The relaunch of Youngblood was…I’m not sure if i can call it
“good,” but I don’t really think that matters with Liefeld. It was
certainly interesting, and that’s enough. It operates as a mini-critique
of Liefeld’s legacy, and the internet culture surrounding him.
Youngblood are described (in comic) as “a long running joke by
legitimate super-heroes like Supreme,” which can easily be applied to
Liefeld’s current status in the comics zeitgeist. He’s the butt of every
shoulder pad joke.

The main plot of the story involves a PR agent being hired to
rehabilitate Youngblood’s image, and while in story the team doesn’t
change much from page one,when you compare it to the first issue there’s
a massive change. The initial issue of Youngblood presented a professional U.S. sanctioned strike force. This iteration reads like an issue of Giffen and DeMatteis’ Justice League International.
Slapstick humor mixed with four month old pop culture references and
odd moments of gag humor-esque flirting and overt sexulization. There is
literally a cloud of hearts at one point. It’s a weird comic, but from a
meta context it works. Liefeld was always criticized for his book’s
perceived seriousness, and juvenile content, so what does he do? Get the
writer of one of the most critically acclaimed “artsy” films of the
2000’s (Black Swan) and has him turn Youngblood into this oddball humorous cape comic.

On his negative influence, I don’t really have much to say. People
certainly aped his style and almost killed the industry. Liefeld should
bear some of the blame for that, but not the lion’s share that’s often
attributed to him. You still needed Marvel Comics going bankrupt and
giving Diamond a distribution monopoly, the mass exodus of speculators,
along with a dozen other things that had nothing to do with Liefeld to
cause the industry’s collapse. He defined the style of the decade, so I
guess people associate him with its failure.

Once you start looking at everything that was going on, it’s clear
that Liefeld was just a scapegoat. That’s not to absolve him of any
involvement, he was just a single player in a industry wide failure.

AB: I didn’t hate the new Youngblood,
either. You summed it up pretty well, and I thought mostly the same of
it. Although, I do feel it was an instance where Liefeld’s artwork
actually didn’t add much to the work. It came off as an odd compliment
to the tone the writer was trying to establish. As you said, this Giffen
voice, but it’s met with Liefeld’s extreme aesthetic and creates this
odd sensation of a comic book.

Interesting, for sure.

I haven’t read every release from the new take on Extreme Studios,
but from what I have explored, I do feel this revamp really represents a
lot of what we talked about here. While I feel Liefeld can produce fun,
over the top comic books, his ultimate legacy lands more in his
influence than his actual work. Whether it be the examples of art comics
you brought to light or now these once lost concepts being utilized by
the likes of Brandon Graham and Ross Campbell, it seems that Liefeld has
managed to create certain elements that will, potentially, outlast him.

Being an artist, that seems to be the ultimate mission, and I like
that this unlikely character seems to have accomplished that, in a
sense. It’s kind of powerful as well as charming.
I know someone out there has read this and believes we’re both
insane, but I feel at this point it’s hard to deny Liefeld’s place. The
guy at least deserves a chance to be reconsidered.

SS: The idea of re-contextualizing and
re-interpreting a creator’s body of work has always interested me; it’s
really the main point of the critic and criticism. There was an
excellent Inkstuds episode featuring Ben Schwartz, Jeet Heer and Gary
Groth (Americas Best Comics Criticism)
which featured a large segment centered around the discussion of which
creators needed a critical re-evaluation to cement their legacy. There
certainly are a few creators who are undeniably great, but most need
that extra push from an outside source. And that’s where critics come
in.
It seems like a lot of re-contextualization is still coming from the print side of things. The (now) yearly Comics Journal
along with the archive editions many book publishers put out,
specifically Fantagraphics, have kind of cornered the market on this
idea. Even as the net becomes more present, it’s still print that holds
the reigns on “serious” criticism.
This probably stems from the financial structure of websites. When
the newest thing drives site hits, it becomes difficult to justify
talking about the past in any definitive sense (I’ve had three week old
reviews deemed irrelevant). There’s a two week period when a new book
comes out that it can be talked about (and maybe a third when “Best Of”
lists start coming out) before they disappear off the main page and into
the wasteland that is the site archives.
That’s why Tim Callahan
is such an important figure in (web) criticism; he runs one of maybe
three columns that focuses on contextualizing older works on a regular
basis (Matt Seneca’s Robot 6 column and Jog’s Comics of the Week essay
being the only other ones to my knowledge), and on the mediums biggest
site to boot. It was Tim who brought Liefeld to the forefront of the
comics discussion. I know thats where I became aware of him at least. So
I guess that’s why we’re here.
But really, Liefeld was due for a reevaluation anyways. It has been
over twenty years since he reshaped the medium, and ten years worth of
(as Liefeld has wonderfully named them) Liefeld “Haters” being taken at
their word. And no one at the Journal (who I adore in every sense of the
word) is going to tackle Liefeld anytime soon.

So here we are, two brash, young critics trying to redefine an industry legend.

AB: I think “young” is a good way to describe us.
It’s a little off topic, but I tend to agree with your points about online comics criticism (and Tim is the man).

Sites do rely on hot topics to entertain their audiences, but they
also rely heavily on short pieces. The long, in depth piece rarely
exists on a comic book site. Why? I don’t really know, other than most
people probably don’t have the attention span for them, so sites cater
to that, keeping us in a constant ADHD state of channel surfing. Also,
long pieces take a lot more work, and when you have a schedule to keep
to, a big site’s better off living on small blurb articles to keep the
updates constant.
When a good lengthy piece hits though, there’s little better (at least for my unusual enjoyment). Like this Michel Fiffe piece on the one man anthology comic. Best thing I’ve read in a while, and you can just tell he put the time and effort into it.

So, sadly Shawn, what I’m saying is: only three people will read this
conversation we’ve spent the time typing. I hope you won’t kill
yourself.